


Opposites

by InkStainsOnMyHands



Category: Big Hero 6 (2014)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Twins, Angst with a Happy Ending, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, M/M, Mentions of possible yandere!Tadashi, Sibling Incest, Sibling Rivalry, Unresolved Romantic Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-07
Updated: 2015-04-07
Packaged: 2018-03-21 18:57:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,888
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3702467
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InkStainsOnMyHands/pseuds/InkStainsOnMyHands
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Hamada twins, though similar in physical appearance, were quite the opposites in many different ways. Where Tadashi was polite, charming, well-groomed and scholarly, Takeshi was blunt, brash, punk-ish and painfully delinquent despite his intelligence. The most blatant difference between them, however, was their respective attitudes towards their little brother. While Tadashi absolutely adored Hiro, it seemed as though Takeshi couldn’t stand to be in his mere presence.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Opposites

**Author's Note:**

> I have had so much fun with head canons for this universe, but I realized recently that I never really wrote anything down for it. So, this is the finished and complete one-shot for this universe. I may write more later on.

The Hamada twins, though similar in physical appearance, were quite the opposites in many different ways. Where Tadashi was polite, charming, well-groomed and scholarly, Takeshi was blunt, brash, punk-ish and painfully delinquent despite his intelligence. The most blatant difference between them, however, was their respective attitudes towards their little brother. While Tadashi absolutely adored Hiro, it seemed as though Takeshi couldn’t stand to be in his mere presence.

Since Hiro had turned thirteen, Takeshi not only actively avoided his younger sibling, but antagonized him whenever they were forced to meet. At times, it escalated so far so quickly that even Tadashi, naturally mild-mannered as he was, had to physically intervene. When Tadashi had attempted to run into a burning building to save his college professor during the SFIT expo incident, and would have only succeeded in killing himself if not for the joint effort of his two brothers holding him back, Takeshi had blamed Hiro for their brother’s brief foray into heroics. He shouted cutting accusations at him until the thick skin Hiro had developed over the years of constant bullying had cracked and bled in the form of his thick tears. That night, after coming home from the hospital no worse for wear, Tadashi found Hiro curled up in a ball at the foot of the stairs. Takeshi sported a black eye the morning after.

The estrangement became far, far worse over the coming years. At sixteen, and ready to complete his first college degree, Hiro often found himself feeling like a much younger child dreading the looming shadow of his older brother at every corner. His brother had never been physically abusive, no. In fact, Takeshi seemed to take great pains to avoid coming into contact with him, as though Hiro were some sort of vile, disease-infested sewer rat. But, Takeshi was the only person who could reduce Hiro into a pathetically insecure mess, though the younger brother often put on a blase bravado to protect his pride. It was a false attitude, of course; Hiro was often just a hair above his breaking point.

There were times when Hiro wanted to break down and ask his older brother why he didn’t love him anymore. After all, they had been so close when they were younger. In fact, before Hiro’s twelfth birthday, it was a normal occurrence for the twins to fight over Hiro’s exclusive attention. Those days had long since passed, and the younger boy was left wondering what he had done to inspire Takeshi’s ire for him. He didn’t receive his answer until the day the punk had walked in on Tadashi and Hiro heavily petting one another as they kissed on the smaller boy’s bed.

Takeshi grabbed Tadashi by the back of his collar and yanked with enough force to nearly throw him to the other side of the room. He then stood between his twin and the foot of his younger sibling's mattress, spreading his arms out as if to shield their brother from him. He screamed ugly insults and allegations until his throat was raw. At first he threatened to call the police, but as his voice broke down into choked sobs he promised to murder Tadashi himself if he continued to hurt his beautiful baby brother. That was when the puzzle pieces finally fell into place; Takeshi didn’t push Hiro away because he hated him, but rather, it was a mechanism by which to protect Hiro from himself, because he was in love with him.

\---

“Takeshi! Wait!” Hiro called out, running after his older brother, who had bolted out of their room after his outburst. 

Tadashi’s twin didn’t hesitate or even flinch, but rather continued his stride down the stairs and out the front door without missing a beat. Not one to be deterred by Takeshi’s stubbornness, Hiro pursued him onto the sidewalk. 

The evening outside of their home was cold. The dampness exuded by the fog that permeated the streets of San Fransokyo seeped into Hiro’s flesh and clung onto his bones. Regardless, the youngest Hamada continued on, careful to keep himself at a single stride behind Takeshi. If his body shivered or his teeth chattered, he ignored it in favor of pounding his frustration into the pavement below with his clomping footsteps, waiting with a bated breath until his presence was acknowledged. 

The two brothers shared their walk for what seemed like hours before the elder of the two sharply turned to face his younger sibling. He snarled; the sound was low and vicious. Hiro was oddly reminded of the wolves he had seen on television once, snapping at one another as they picked apart their food. He had been so young then, and though a childish fear was present, Takeshi had made him feel safe, holding onto him as the documentary's narrator droned on about the dynamics of the animal’s family hierarchy.

“Oh my God!” Takeshi nearly shouted in exasperation. “Go home, you little brat, I’m not going to rat you or your boyfriend out, okay? Just leave me the fuck alone!” 

Hiro was slightly taken aback, but only by the suddenness of the outburst; he was well adjusted to Takeshi’s screaming. Unperturbed, Hiro leaned forward and rivaled his brother’s cries with, “Not until you tell me what your deal is, you jerk!” 

Just then, the front pocket of Hiro’s hoody vibrated, the fabric of which glowed faintly from a begotten illumination within the confines of the garment. The boy fished his phone out of his clothing. An unanswered text message from Tadashi waited for him. Before the boy could thumb the envelope icon on his screen, the device was snatched from him and thrown into the alley beside them. It was too dark to see an explosion of plastic and metal, but Hiro heard the faint clattering of his phone falling apart against a distant wall. 

Before Hiro could open his mouth to protest, and with language rude enough to make a navy seal blush, Takeshi pointed at the brick-lined structure. His face was painted blood-red and contorted in unadulterated anger. His eyes narrowed, but they were not focused on Hiro. His sharp, amber orbs seemed to be far away. 

“He’s my deal!” he replied with a low growl. “I trusted him to be better than me! All this time I thought he could protect you if I ever went too far, and then this is what happened.” 

Takeshi took the two long strides needed to reach the nearest building. He pivoted on his heel. His back hit the surface of the structure with a disconcerting thud. He slid down, hiding his face in his hands. Choked sobs filtered through his fingers. 

Hiro approached with as much caution as he would exercise around a wounded animal. He knelt beside his hurt brother. Gently, he took his shoulders in his hands. His fingertips rubbed at the tense points beneath. “Hey,” he whispered. “Talk to me.” 

Takeshi peeled his hands away from his wet face. He wiped away the evidence of his sorrow with the back of his knuckles. “All this time,” he croaked. “All this time, I sacrificed your love to keep you safe from me, and you still got hurt.” 

His despair, so evident by the shadows that clung to him, tore at the seams of Hiro’s heart. His stomach lurched, threatening to make him ill. Without another thought, Hiro situated himself next to his brother. He wrapped an arm around his upper back, pulling the older boy to his shoulder. To his sheer surprise, Takeshi took the invitation and rested his head upon the slim pillow offered to him. 

“Do you remember the last time I read you a poem?” Takeshi asked in a hushed tone. 

Hiro’s photographic memory supplied the answer to his question in rich, beautiful detail. 

It was the summer after he had turned thirteen. Tadashi was busy with college preparations, leaving Hiro alone and bored. To alleviate the monotony of the nothingness that was his day, he wandered onto Takeshi’s lap and asked him to read him something, anything, just as long as he used his gift of language to cure him of tedium. 

Takeshi chuckled, picked up the book sitting upon his nightstand, and opened the bookmarked page. Over his shoulder, he huskily read to him a free verse written in Spanish. The language flowed gracefully from his lips with the precision and accuracy of a native speaker. The ghost of the foreign accent traveled over the sensitive shell of his ear, sending pleasant shivers down his neck, over his back, and to the curve of his spine, where the words settled as electric bliss. 

Hiro had never been more aroused before or since. His hands gripped the fabric of his tightened shorts, his toes curled in his socks. If his elder brother hadn’t finished the poem at the point at which he did, Hiro may have cum in his underwear. 

Hiro felt himself heat uncomfortably at the memory. He nodded. “Yeah, I do.” 

“That was the single most erotic moment of my life, and you were barely thirteen,” Takeshi said wistfully. “If you knew what I had been saying to you, if you knew how much I wanted to touch you, to kiss you, you would have -” His brother coughed. “If I knew this was what was going to happen - I should have just killed myself when I had the chance. At least then I would have died knowing you still loved me.” 

Hiro’s stomach rolled. A life without Takeshi flashed through his mind, filled with empty birthdays and missed holidays, spending the rest of his days staring at the painfully unused books sitting upon their shelves, never again sneaking onto his older brother’s unguarded laptop to read his latest masterpiece. Just the idea lacerated him. The hollow point at the center of his chest radiated a pain so profound that he would have doubled-over if not for his current position. 

“You’re a complete idiot if you think dying wouldn’t have broken me, bonehead,” Hiro hissed. His eyes drowned in the depths of his misery. “All I ever wanted was for you to love me again, because no matter what, I still loved you and will always love you.” 

“I’m so vile, Hiro, you really shouldn’t love me,” Takeshi murmured. Despite his words, his older brother slid his hand down the small of his wrist and to his palm. He laced their fingers together. “Táim i ngrá leat, grá mo chroí.” 

Hiro hadn’t the slightest idea as to what Takeshi had said, although it did sound sweet. If prompted, his brother probably wouldn’t give him a translation, but he didn’t need one. Despite the lack of understanding, he allowed the words to heal the bruises on his spirit and ease the heaviness weighing upon his soul. Hiro forgave Takeshi for every slight inflicted upon him easily, certainly more easily than he imagined he would. He was glad for the opportunity, though, eager to just have the brother who had seemingly died three years ago back. 

The echo of footsteps resounded throughout the street. Hiro looked up. Standing before them was Tadashi, tight-lipped with his arms crossed over his chest. The younger sibling gulped; it would seem as though Takeshi's twin would not be so charitable with his own clemency.


End file.
